Where
by Draikinator
Summary: Soundwave refuses to allow himself to acknowledge reality.


Knockout was the last one on the Nemesis' bridge after the Autobots had finished celebrating. He had stood at the databank in total silence for precisely eight minutes and forty three seconds before turning to it, and opening up a recording from the surveillance cameras over the cyberlock. On screen, Lord Megatron was fighting the Prime. Soundwave tilted his helm to the side- not that the traitor could see him do so.

The scout leapt, foolishly, and took three shots to the chest. He went down in a brilliant hail of glimmering purple energy and molten metal. Soundwave felt nothing for him. He made his choice when he jumped. Soundwave felt nothing until the scout picked himself up out of the cybermatter and slammed the star saber through Lord Megatron's spark chamber.

That had not happened. That could _not_ have happened. There was_ no way_ Lord Megatron could die. He had survived far worse. He had survived so much. He wasn't dead. Lord Megatron _could not die. _The video was a lie! It had been tampered with! The traitor was trying to trick him!

Knockout pulled up the scanner and Lord Megatron's nonexistent life signal.

"He's dead," he said. Soundwave wanted to kill him. He wanted to throw him out of the ship, screaming. He wanted to rip off all his limbs and feed them to him. He wanted out of this dimension. "He wouldn't go back for Breakdown, but he went back for you. Not this time."

The traitor was smiling. The traitor was _SMILING_.

Knockout pulled the video back on screen and paused it. Lord Megatron's talons still gripped at the blade in his chest, but his spark had gone dark, his optics offline.

The traitor was humming as he left, and it was hours before the scout came to the bridge and, confused, turned it off.

By then, Soundwave had exhausted himself trying to destroy the databank, screaming in a voice he had entirely forgotten he had.

* * *

><p>He couldn't focus. He needed to focus. He needed to escape. Lord Megatron was dead, but Soundwave was not. He needed to survive. But Lord Megatron was <em>dead<em>. _Ravage_ was dead._ Rumble and Frenzy and Buzzsaw_ _were dead._ What was the _point_?

He needed to focus.

Every time his fingers brushed the keys, every command he input brought his processor back to Lord Megatron. Dead, offline, _gone forever_ Lord Megatron.

He had to survive. He _had to_ survive. Decepticons _survived_, above all else. Decepticons lived.

He had to save Cybertron from the Autobots. He had to _kill_ the Autobots. They had killed Lord Megatron and he _needed_ to kill them. Lord Megatron's interests still lived and he could still protect them.

If he could focus.

He pushed through the megatons of guilt and grief and hurt bearing down on his processor and opened his memory banks.

A world without Lord Megatron was not one he cared to live in.

But he had to live.

Quickly, like a bandaid, he deleted the memory of the things the traitor showed him. Took away all thoughts of Lord Megatron's demise. Soundwave rewrote his memory effortlessly, like an outdated log entry, and hit a hard reset.

* * *

><p>He came back to himself with a system reboot. He had to<em> escape<em>. Lord Megatron was still out there, and the Decepticon troops were cowards and cheats and they would not provide him the support he needed.

He had to save Lord Megatron.

The Nemesis' spacebridge was still available to him, but not forever. If he could use the Nemesis' systems to hack into the Autobot base, he could use their bridge in conjunction with his own and recreate the rift in space time he had originally fallen through, and he could fall right back through into reality.

He needed to find Lord Megatron.

* * *

><p>The Autobots kept wandering in, pressing buttons and stealing data and spitting lies. "<em>Megatron is dead<em>," they would say, twisted, cowardly lip-plates shifting around deceptions.

The first time they pulled up the video on the main databank he opened his processor and deleted it, installing backup protocols to take the memory automatically. He needed to get out and he needed _a reason_ to get out.

And he would not allow those animals to rob him of his. He would not allow them to rob him _anything else. _Ever again.

* * *

><p>Soundwave was running out of time.<p>

He nearly had the other system breached- doing it without being caught was taking some fenagling. _Frag_ the tiny human hacker. He was running out of time as his energon levels dwindled, much faster than many as his single remaining deployer was docked directly to his fuel lines.

He got an emergency warning. He was getting low. _Very low_. He was running out of time.

Lazerbeak pinged him. _Soundwave: Need energon._

Yes, he_ knew_ he needed energon. Soundwave rested his EM field over her reassuringly. She pushed back with another ping.

_Soundwave: Priority. Lazerbeak: Power Drain._

She reversed the energon flow between them with a quiet click.

He tried to disable the command with a desperation he had forgotten he was capable of, but she had engaged emergency fuel protocols and Soundwave found himself able to do nothing as her tiny EM field faded and dissipated and the critical energon level warnings vanished from his HUD.

He couldn't sense her tiny spark any longer. His urgent pings went unanswered by what was now cold, lifeless metal. The familiar thrum of her against his chest plates was missing and distracting but he didn't have much time and he couldn't allow her sacrifice to be in vain. Decepticons _survived_, despite all else.

He opened up his memory files, and took her out of it. He didn't have time for this. She was _dead_ and he needed to make that _mean_ something.

Servos straining against the databank, pushing dents into the metal, he took the rest of them, too.

* * *

><p>He burst forth from the glowing green groundbridge that had set him free to intruder alarms blaring around him. As if <em>he<em> could be an intruder on the Nemesis. The Autobots would pay for their theft and their crimes.

The first responder on the bridge was a startled Vehicon that had lowered their blaster uncertainly. Soundwave neatly removed the traitor's helm from their chassis and stepped into the hall. He _needed_ to find Lord Megatron. His processor was screaming: _Find Lord Megatron. Find Lord Megatron._

The first wave of Vehicon troopers arrived. He was low on energon, but he needed to find Lord Megatron, and he needed to find him_ now_. It was a group of five- he ripped one in half, crushed one against the wall, tore out one's spark and went back to decapitation for the fourth. The fifth he ripped the legs off of and slammed an input cable into, searching for data. _Where was Lord Megatron?_

* * *

><p>He came out of a hard reset standing in the hallway of the Nemesis, surrounded by five Vehicon corpses. One gave a staticcy moan and he corrected himself; four Vehicon corpses. He crushed their spark chamber. Five Vehicon corpses.<p>

He needed to find Lord Megatron. His HUD alerted him to his critical energon levels and his processor swam, trying to find a solution. His locator put him somewhere over Cybertron- in the air, at least. Cybertron was totally drained of all its energon stores- the closest natural deposits were on Earth and he wasn't certain a raid on the medical bay for synth-en that may or may not be there and may or may not be _stable _was a viable option when he was this low.

His HUD pointed out the decapitated Vehicon's chassis and their intact fuel pump. Soundwave's servos clenched at nothing at his sides, and he made a decision, tearing off the corpse's torso plating and taking what he needed.

* * *

><p>The radiation of Cybertron's second moon (the other was currently occupied) was effective at hiding his life and energy signals while Soundwave went into emergency stasis for repairs.<p>

All he had to do was repair his body, and find Lord Megatron. He could be anywhere- Cybertron, Earth, off in the universe somewhere? He had to find him. Soundwave refrained from the vain puffery and prideful boasting that most Decepticons so enjoyed, but he was not stupid. He was an important and valuable commodity in Lord Megatron's army- and after this crushing defeat at the hands of the Autobots, his services would be required more than ever.

As soon as repairs were complete. As soon as he figured out why the armour on his chest wasn't responding.

* * *

><p>When he came back online, he cast his attentions down at Cybertron. There were lights now- reparations were obviously underway. As much as he would like to leave the Autobots alive that Lord Megatron might have the opportunity to kill them himself later, he needed to find Lord Megatron first.<p>

From the moment his pedes touched Cybertronian ground, he could tell something had changed. The ground was alive again- _not_ like it had been before Cybertron had gone dark… Like it had been before the Autobots had stolen the Allspark. His servos clenched into tiny fists at his sides. They would _pay_ for their trespasses.

He had enough energon for a bridge to their location- but if the Autobots had new backup and he was outnumbered it could be a waste, and he had so little left to waste. He wished briefly he could scout ahead and his processor flared with dim recollections of being able to do so in the past. Fleeting. Inconsequential. Irrelevant.

He would have to risk it.

* * *

><p>He held the Autobot's helm in one servo, fingers laced into the seams at the back threateningly, daring him to resist as he sifted through his memories. Where was Lord Megatron?<p>

Their swords were broken and likely their legs, too- Soundwave had not been gentle on the guard. They were all greys and reds and blacks and a Decepticon _traitor_, and Soundwave was growing _tired_ of _traitors_.

He reached into their mind with one question: _Where is Lord Megatron?_

* * *

><p>He stumbled, righting himself after an involuntary hard reset. He was back online before he could even fall, data from the grey traitor deleted. It must have been glitched. Had a virus.<p>

He disengaged his input cable from the their neck, tore the outer plating from their helm and crushed their electronic brain with a krrk and a static sigh, stepping over their limp form to put the password he _had_ retrieved from their mind into the doorlock.

Beyond the door was the scout and his allies. They were well equipped, but they, like the scout, were mostly children. They were not soldiers, and they were certainly not gladiators and they had_ no idea_ what he could do to them.

_Would_ do to them.

Far beyond pretense and vows, he rasped out in his own voice, laced with rage and static and the screech of rusted pistons, thick with his outdated Voxian accent, "_Where… Is… Lord… Megatron_!" Each word punctuated by a shot from the plasma cannon he had liberated from one of the foot soldiers towards the sparklings huddled behind the barricades.

The scout looked puzzled, even behind both muzzles of his smoking blasters, "What the pit are you _talking_ about?! Megatron is-!"

Soundwave hit a hard reset.

* * *

><p>He came back online far later than he should have. The poorly timed involuntary reset should have taken seconds, but his chronometer told him it had been days. His limbs were all offline and not responding to his reboots- he must have just been pulled out of stasis. Was he bound? Entirely possible. He diverted all energy to onlining his optics.<p>

The yellow scout was staring at him like he wished he had lazer optics to impale him with on the spot. There was a larger, pointier, unfamiliar silver mech beside him. Ah- yes, he was definitely bound. Stasis lock bindings, too. Impressive. Soundwave was almost flattered.

He realized belatedly the scout was speaking and rebooted his audials.

"-ook out Drift and a _half dozen_ foot soldiers, we can't let him live. Not after that."

"_You_ didn't seem to have a problem with killing foot soldiers when we were at war, Scout."

"_Leader_, and that was _different_. We aren't at _war_ anymore, _."

Soundwave reset his audials again after they burst static into his processor. That couldn't have been right.

"Tell my third that. _Soundwave_! You've been ordered to_ stand down_." The unfamiliar mech growled. Soundwave did not respond. Whoever this mech was was _irrelevant._ He was not Megatron and he did not have the right to give Soundwave or _anyone_ orders.

Soundwave was old enough (and had spent enough time in the pits) to know a few tricks with stasis cuffs. He flared his EM field with his own spark energy, shorting them out for only a second- a second he used to snap his arms out of his restraints and grab the offender by the neck cabling.

He played back a recording of his own voice, vocal processors still offline. "_Where- is- Lord- Megatron_!" Came out of his speakers, clipped and staticcy.

The silver mech slammed him back down hard enough to crack his visor. Through the spiderwebbing splits in the glass he could see his faceplate- more confused than angry.

"Your armour isn't that different from your old frame," the scout-leader said, with little reaction to his display. The mech who had hit him shook their head.

"No, it's not. Soundwave, I am _."

Soundwave reset his audials again and ground his arms against the table, grasping for the scout. He had to kill the scout-leader. He didn't know why he _needed_ to so badly, but he needed to kill the scout-leader.

The scout-leader _had to die_.

"_, we can't let him go and we don't have the stasis pods to keep him. He killed _seven people_ in peace time. I don't have much of a _choice_ here."

The silver mech ground their sharp denta together and cut the scout-leader a glare, "One _always_ has a choice, Bumblebee. That is _precisely_ why the Decepticons existed in the first place." The scout-leader frowned at this, but the silver one continued, "The freedom of choice is the right of_ all_ sentient beings." The silver one frowned and touched the disconnected armour on Soundwave's chest. "What happened to _?"

Soundwave tilted his helm to the side, confused.

"_. Your deployer. It's unresponsive."

He looked down at his chest armour. It was, in fact, unresponsive. He looked back up at the silver one, uncomprehending.

"I don't think it's online," the scout-leader said, "Ratchet said its tanks were empty. He thinks it's _."

The silver mech's optics widened, "_? _? Soundwave would not have allowed that. It must be still online. He would have buried it, at least. He considers it sentient."

The silver mech confused him. They spoke nonsense and kept spitting static at him. He didn't like the silver mech and he didn't like the scout-leader.

"_Where- is- Lord- Megatron-?_" He played again and they both turned to look at him, then turned to look at eachother.

"Soundwave," started the silver mech, "You obviously do not recognize me, but I assure you, Unicron returned me to life after my spark was ex-"

His helm hit the medical slab with a thunk as he hit another fragging hard reset.

* * *

><p>Soundwave woke up on a medical slab with broken stasis cuffs and a large silver mech's servo holding him down. Cursory scans showed him the scout was also in the room, EM field radiating concern and confusion.<p>

"…I'm taking him," the silver mech said eventually, hoarsely. The scout- the scout he _had to kill_- spoke softly.

"You can't. He has to answer for his crimes."

"So do I. I'm taking him. _Offworld._"

Soundwave tried to push himself up against the mech's servo, but he held him down, and the stasis cuffs still around his lower limbs were making him feel feeble and drowsy. It was hard to stay focused.

"…You want me to… Banish him?" The scout said, baffled. Soundwave tried to push himself up again and failed.

"Frankly, Bumblebee, I do not care what you do. I am taking him off world. You wanted me to leave, did you not?"

The scout shifted on his pedes, "…Fine. I'll allow it. We won't be answering your distress calls. Don't come back here."

The silver one nodded tersely and turned to him, "Whatever's happened to you, we are going to fix it. It's time I started going back for people."

Something in the phrase sent an electric jolt of pain from his processor down his spinal strut and he hit another hard reset.

* * *

><p>Soundwave came back online dizzy. His processor ached and his limbs weren't responding and his spinal strut was sore and his weapons were offline. He onlined his optics.<p>

There was a large silver mech sitting nearby, reading a data pad and sitting at the controls for whatever kind of unfamiliar spacecraft they were in. He forced his limbs online, and pushed the sluggish, bleary things up.

"_Where- Is- Lord- _-!_" He played back, a recording he didn't remember making that was at the front of his processor, laced with static. The silver mech looked up at him curiously.

"I don't know," they said, after a long pause, and Soundwave revved his quiet flight engine in frustration, "But we'll find him."

Soundwave went quiet, inspecting the silver mech. They had a Decepticon symbol on their chest plates- not a traitor? That was new.

He stood, shakily, and recognized the feeling of a full tank. Not a traitor. He nodded at the silver mech and nudged him away from the controls as he inspected their location and route. They were headed for Regulon 4.

Not a bad place to look. There had been more than one Decepticon outpost in that sector, and if Lord _ wasn't on Cybertron, and he wasn't on Earth, Soundwave needed to start expanding his efforts to other sectors.

He would find him.

He _had_ to find him.


End file.
